


whisper truce as the ashes hit the ground

by charleybradburies



Series: Geraskier Week 2020 [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Blood, Blood and Injury, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Geraskier Week, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Magic, Other, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon, Rescue, Reunions, Torture, Violence, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22895797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: "So, who's it gonna be? The one that you only need...I gave it all and all you gave was sweet misery."Jaskier pictures plenty of dramatic rescue scenarios, and plenty of rescuers. His brother, perhaps, or someone employed by the Countess de Stael, or even Geralt.Geraskier Week: Day Four (Hurt/Comfort)Title from "Scars" by Boy Epic.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Geraskier Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634425
Comments: 15
Kudos: 442





	whisper truce as the ashes hit the ground

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy, kudos, and comment!

Regardless of whether or not he actually wants to see the witcher or vice versa, Jaskier spends an unreasonable amount of time and energy hoping - imagining, really - that Geralt would come for him. 

Not that Geralt had any reason to know of his current predicament, what with their being intentionally separated and with the interactions leading to his being captured, chained, taunted, and tortured being distinctly human and unrelated to Geralt in all ways. Still, just as he did before they'd gone separate ways for good, Jaskier likes the odds that are Geralt against anyone, and likes the idea of Geralt caring enough to come rescue him. That fact only becomes more and more true every day of his imprisonment, even though he doesn't know how many days that's been, especially as he's quite certain they've not even given him their stale bread and tepid water on each of the days. It's possible, though, that time simply _seemed_ to pass so slowly, likely because he was going mad, as evinced by just how real some of the figments of his imagination seemed - but Jaskier really didn't know. 

He tries at first to discern what, if anything in his surroundings, is truly real, but after some time that's simply too much effort, so he gets lost in his imaginings instead. Those were far better, especially as his early idea of singing to pass the time had gotten him another beating. Jaskier imagines all sorts of ends, both good and bad, and eventually details of what he thinks is happening match up well enough he can't judge their reality. As it goes, though, he cries out for people, mainly Geralt, an innumerable number of times. Often that gets him a beating, too - he thinks that if he survives he'll have a few scars earned only by crying for the witcher, and he doesn't want to think of how pathetic that is, especially after their parting - but the physical contact confirms, at least, that someone _knows_ he's here, that he's not just been chained up here and left for dead.

Not yet, at least.

Jaskier pictures plenty of dramatic rescue scenarios, and plenty of rescuers. His brother, perhaps, or someone employed by the Countess de Stael, or even Geralt. 

He never pictures that the first kind hand he feels throughout his stay in this dungeon will come at the same time, seemingly from the same body, as a voice he can recognize as Yennefer's. 

She's in men's clothes, and _nice_ ones, but he opens his eyes further and catches the purple of her eyes as she kneels down, and there's no mistake in his assessment of her. 

He's not sure how exactly she manages any of it, but she throws her hand open above them, and drags light though the tiny windows into the sconce on the wall behind him, and the shackles break off of him without being touched. Then, while his limbs are trying to adjust to being suddenly unbound, her hands are touching his head, touching what he can feel are open wounds, and it officially dawns on him that she's actually _here_ , touching him, freeing him.

"We'll treat these later, back at the keep," she says, her voice softer than he's probably ever heard it. "These thugs really did a number on you."

Jaskier wants to verbalize the question of what castle she's managed to take hold of since they've last seen each other, but a loud thud resounds from somewhere down the corridor, distracting him from any attempt. He'd jump, and his heart does leap a bit, but he's far too tired and weak for much movement at all, so he just watches Yennefer's face shift from a look of strange concern to a smirk he's more familiar with. 

"Could you hold yourself up at all, bard?" 

He hasn't tried to move his body in - well, he doesn't know _how_ long, so he doubts it, and he shakes his head to indicate as much, because he doesn't think he could speak either. Yennefer's look turns back into concern then, and she puts a hand on his chin, gently pushing open his dry lips. As surprisingly gentle as the movement is, the pain of it is sharp in his jaw, and his wince hurts his head and pulls a sigh from the sorceress.

"Huh. Your tongue's still there. Expected you to be jabbering on already."

He shoves out a "hmm" with as much force as he can muster. It sounds like a growl and feels like a punch to the face. 

Something metal breaks down the corridor - near the thud of a moment ago, he thinks. A dark, masculine attempt at a scream follows, cut off by the telltale swipe of a sword, which sounds as easy as always, Jaskier muses, realizing with more certainty what's going on. Yennefer doesn't even react to the sounds behind her, unless making an effort to wipe his blood-coated hair away from his forehead counts as a reaction. 

There are other footsteps behind her, but unlike his cell, the corridor is too dark to see a source. 

He knows it's Geralt, though, and he's torn between _wanting_ to see and wanting to forget this ordeal entirely - including the presence of his...whatever the two of them were to him.

And yet, when Yennefer softens her voice again and goes, "you can rest now, bard," he obeys.

~~

Geralt's there when he comes to.

More accurately, Geralt is seated at the side of a chaise that Jaskier has been laid on, cleaning one of the many wounds on the bard's stomach with a soft rag. 

"Sorry," he rasps, and the fact that it's an apology nearly escapes Jaskier, because it's the first time in his memory that Geralt's spoken first. "Hoped not to wake you until you'd really started healing." 

Jaskier waits a few moments, watching the witcher's hands as they ghost purposely over the visible injuries, the touch tender, barely there, as though Geralt's afraid Jaskier will break if he's touched with any more force.

"This Yennefer's current castle?" Jaskier eventually asks, not knowing, for once, how to word anything else - but knowing well enough not to explicitly ask who's been put under a spell to allow them to be here.

Geralt gives something that in another life might be a chuckle, but in reality is more an exhalation that sounds like one of Roach's.

"This is Kaer Morhen," he says, as though that explains things, and continues trying to clean an area where blood has long since dried. Jaskier considers grabbing his hand to still it, to try to get more explanation from him - he _would_ have done that before, if his capture had happened during one of their previous times apart, but this time was _different_ so he _doesn't_ , but he _wants _to so he clenches his hand to keep from it, and Geralt stops anyway.__

____

____

"Am I hurting you?" he asks, and his voice is so _soft_ and Jaskier doesn't quite want to know what's made him this way, doesn't quite want it to be what he thinks it is because he's not _ready_ for that, he spent half his life being _ready_ \- 

"Oh, we're far past that," Jaskier manages to answer, surprising himself with the sheer bitterness he can hear in his voice. Geralt's breath is a little less even after, and Jaskier bites his tongue so he doesn't think to apologize for it. It's sad, really, that he could have his heart made into blown glass only to be thrown onto the ground, and still wish not to give hurt in return. 

Jaskier didn't wish the _same_ hurt, at least. He wished he'd reason that was because Geralt would truly not know how to handle hurt, whereas Jaskier had outlets, and experience with matters of the heart, but he also knew better than to imagine his heart was wise. 

"Would you rather someone else treat you?" 

Geralt's voice is dejected, and Jaskier pointedly looks away from him. 

"Is Yennefer the only other person I know?" 

"Unless you know other witchers, yes." 

"Then no." 

Geralt takes a deep breath, and sets his gentle hands back to working on Jaskier's wounds. 

By the time he's cleaned and sewn and salved to his content, their silence is almost comfortable. Almost like it had been before, on the few occasions on which Jaskier didn't feel the irresistible urge to fill the silence. 

Almost. 


End file.
